the restaurant and the end of the universe

One thing I like about Pixar films is how the happy ending isn’t always what you think it’ll be. The toys don’t go with Andy to college, Gusteau’s restaurant gets closed down, Mike and Sulley get kicked out of university, Carl never gets Ellie to Paradise Falls. But they find out that what they wanted isn’t necessarily what they needed, and I really like the fact that kids get to learn that life doesn’t always turn out the way they dreamed and that’s okay.

There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.

There is another theory which states that this has already happened.

—  Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
sapphic animated lady date nights

Korra and Asami: Mountain date, hike up a mountain with a giant dog, tease each other about ‘getting tired’ and have a kiss tax if one of you stumbles, point out weird rocks that look like your boss, make everyone feel less sporty when you both race the rest of the way to the top and the winner swings the loser around in her arms

Ruby and Sapphire: Embarrassing Mom date, giggle at all each other’s jokes, hold hands, take the family out to the fair and compliment your child when he does anything, win prizes for each other, practice cheesy pickup lines and have loud declarations of love in public when your wife so much as smiles

Bubblegum and Marceline: Meandering Date, serenade your workaholic gf with more and more obnoxious versions of ‘All Star’ until she agrees to go check out this cemetery with you. Accidentally upset some haunted tax collector headstones, destroy them, and then make out on a hilltop until dawn

Rose and Kanaya: Stay-in Date, stay at home and make mac-n-cheese with wine, quote Shakespeare/space alien Shakespeare, reenact famous movie scenes- except gay and you’re drinking wine and sometimes you fall over and kiss, pretend to be grownups and then play mario cart in your pjs for the rest of the night

Tsuyu and Ochako: Gal Pals School Night Date, high school girls go to a haunted house, scream, hold hands, tell each other they are the most beautiful thing in the entire world, make funny faces at each other and cuddle, get told by classmates you’d make a cute couple if one of you was a guy :), be gay 

Sailor Uranus and Neptune: Sophisticated Lesbian date, power couple goes to local high-end restaurant and are the most glamorous things in the room, show up in a sports car and make every girl in the vicinity 25% less straight, ballroom dance, get free cocktails, maybe fight a dude at the end of the night and make out up against an alley wall after they deck them 

It is known that there are an infinite number of worlds, simply because there is an infinite amount of space for them to be in. However, not every one of them is inhabited. Therefore, there must be a finite number of inhabited worlds. Any finite number divided by infinity is as near to nothing as makes no odds, so the average population of all the planets in the Universe can be said to be zero. From this it follows that the population of the whole Universe is also zero, and that any people you may meet from time to time are merely the products of a deranged imagination.
—  Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable. There is another theory which states that this has already happened.
—  Douglas Adams, The Restaurant at the End of the Universe
How I Overcame Reader’s Block (And So Can You!)

As a kid, I adored reading.  Okay, more specifically, I enjoyed reading about dragons, but that’s not the issue here.  

It frequently coincided with my equally as intense love of climbing trees, and some of my fondest memories involve being perched in a small tree and reading some hopelessly goofy, dragon-related literature while my mom and toddler siblings used the playground equipment.  If no climbable trees were available, I’d settle for reading under one and drinking a thermos of chocolate milk while they ran around in the park. 

As I got older, my tastes got a little more eclectic as I encountered Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Anne Shirley, the residents of Narnia and Middle Earth, respectively, and much to my mother’s horror, Stephen King, but my passion remained more or less the same.    

Bottom line is, I loved reading.  It was my paramount joy, my primary source of entertainment, and I didn’t think that would ever change.

So imagine my shock when, around my sophomore year of college at the age of seventeen, it occurred to me that I hadn’t really read for pleasure since I discovered the Hunger Games a year or two prior.  Moreover, and equally as horrifically, when I tried to read I found I couldn’t focus;  regardless of the quality of the story and how much I wanted to read it, the investment was gone.

Whether this was due to my first stint with organized education (prior to college, I was homeschooled) or the fact that I’d grown accustomed to the bite-sized chunks of candy-flavored, insubstantial information served up by the internet, the sad and simple fact was that I had fallen out of love with reading, and it looked like it was going to stay that way forever.   

Well, flash forward two-point-five years to Present-Day Brooksie, and since school got out in early May, I’ve read Chuck Palahniuk’s Make Something Up: Stories You Can’t Unread, Ruth Ware’s In a Dark, Dark Wood, Emma Straub’s The Vacationers, Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book, and Celeste Ng’s Everything I Never Told You.  Despite the disappointing lack of dragons, I loved all of them.    

I drink books like nectar again, if you’ll pardon the floral language, and everything from the quality of my writing to the quality of my life has improved as a result of it.  

So how did I fall back in love with reading?  Well, I’ve spent a lot of time pontificating on this, and as far as I can tell, it can be narrowed down to three factors:

1.  Reading every day.

It started with lunch.  Every day, when I’d sit down at my university cafe, I used to get out my laptop and watch YouTube or whatnot while I ate my sandwich – a cool idea in theory, but really sort of gross whenever I rubbed my greasy fingers on the mouse and keyboard. 

When I made a conscious decision to read more, I began taking out my book and reading during the lunch period instead.  It didn’t come naturally at first – I was easily distracted and kept zoning out – but I ultimately found it very pleasant, especially when I listened to some classical music in the background as well (nice for atmosphere, and for drowning out noise and distractions.)  

I kept doing it.  

When that summer rolled around, I rediscovered an amazing little outdoor cafe by the harbor.  It had no wifi, which for my purposes, was absolutely perfect.

I went there to read Good Omens and eat home baked lemon squares, pie, and banana bread, listening to international tourists speak in other languages, and watch the boats go by.  It was a beautiful environment, and that (coupled with the fact that Good Omens is just really fucking awesome) made it easier than ever for me to want to stay longer and become more engrossed in what I was reading.

Afterwards, I’d take out my notebook and work on my own stories and journal.  Overall, I’d say that summer was one of the most intellectually productive I’ve had.  

Once school started again, it got a little harder to read every day, but by then my love of reading had pretty much caught:  it had become an intellectual drug for me again, a source of comfort, pleasure, and inspiration.  Also, it was another viable excuse to procrastinate on my academic responsibilities, which was always welcome.  So I kept reading.  It was still a relatively slow process, as I had to work around my already busy schedule, but the more I read the more adept I became at drinking in the information in hungry, satisfying gulps (a bit more suggestive than I’d initially intended that metaphor to be, but I’m going to go with it.)

But this isn’t to say that there were no bumps in the road back to bibliophilia.  There was another factor that I had to grasp before I reached the point where I could unabashedly adore reading once again.

Which is: 

2.  Reading what excites me.

No, I’m not speaking sexually, you pervert.  I’m talking about books I actually want to read.  

When I first started trying to get back into literature, I started trying to read the classics exclusively, like Around the World in Eighty Days and Little Women.  Let me be clear, these books are amazing (excluding the jarring amounts of racism and endorsements of British colonialism in the former) but after semesters of reading similar works for my literature seminars, they just felt a little like…academia.  

In fact, the only reason I was insistent on reading classics exclusively, I now realize, was because I was a pretentious, pseudo intellectual little shit back in those days with a horrible case of impostor syndrome.  What I needed to re-learn was what dragon-loving, Ten-Year-Old Brooksie long since already knew: the best way to enjoy reading is to read what you actually enjoy.

It was a lesson I slowly but surely remastered, and it took me a while to realize that modern literature is teaming with smart, enriching reads, like Life of Pi, American Gods, Where’d You Go Bernadette, The Twelve Tribes of Hattie, The Help, Everything I Never Told You, and countless others.  

Moreover, these were books I didn’t have to force myself to read;  they were books I found myself reading at four AM because I didn’t want to stop.  

I’ve also discovered classics that I can eat up in a matter of days, like A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Which absolutely everyone should read, by the way:  Francie Nolan is a feminist icon, and way, way ahead of her time, not to mention it’s fucking hilarious and will make you cry like a little bitch), Jane Eyre, and basically anything written by Jane Austen.  I love these books for their sharp wit, applicable and timeless life observations, and striking lack of the pretentiousness that I’d come to associate with a lot of classic literature.

This summer, I my reading list includes Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, Douglas Adams’ The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, Louis Sachar’s Holes, Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See, and Neil Gaiman’s Anansi Boys.  I’m looking forward to reading each and every one of them. 

Ultimately, the point I’m trying to make here is that there’s no joy to be found in pretentiousness:  don’t read to prove yourself as an intellectual.  Read to enrich your soul, read what you legitimately enjoy, and read what inspires you.  

Which brings me to my next and final point…   

3.  Reading what inspires me.

This one might be true specifically for my fellow authors, but since I know a large portion of my followers are fellow authors, I think it’s applicable here.  

Ever since I was an infinitesimally small child, I’ve wanted to write stories.  When I was fourteen I wrote a hopelessly angsty YA novel about a half-dragon girl named Freedom and her misadventures with an ambiguously lesbian vampire and werewolf duo, a seductive and ambiguously bisexual elf (it was a time of self discovery for me), and a talking lion.  When I was eleven, I wrote a middle grade novel about a little boy who befriends a dragon.  When I was four, I wrote *ahem!* drew wordless stories about a winged wolf-creature named Starlight and his (in retrospect, overtly gory) battles with monsters.

It was bizarre, cringey, and I’m not gonna lie, pretty fucking awesome.  

Around the time I started college at around sixteen, I’d just decided I wanted to start writing again.  I had lots of ideas, and I remember in detail getting yelled at by my manager for scribbling in my notebook behind the counter instead of dutifully smiling at customers the way I was supposed to.  

But my writing was…well, to put it bluntly, it was really, really bad.  It only began to improve when I resolved to write every day.  It noticeably and drastically began to improve when I began to read works that I found creatively inspiring. 

While I was revising my manuscript, I read a lot of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, both masters of the kind of urban fantasy I was attempting to write,  and spent a lot of time figuring out what I loved most about their writing and how to best apply it.  This was also around the time I began reading Douglas Adams, which was, let me tell you, a magical experience.  It involved a lot of delighted gasping on my end and thinking you’re allowed to do that?

It really showed me what the barriers were for creative writing, or in this case, total lack thereof.

I think I owe these writers a lot for helping me to create several novel-length manuscripts I’m incredibly proud of, and one that I’m currently preparing to get published.


So in closing, for anyone suffering from reader’s block, feel free to try my approach:  read every day, read what you love and not to stoke your ego, and for my writer peeps, read what inspires you.

Either way, my books and I are enjoying a passionate long-term relationship, and every day I find myself loving them more.

Fate is a bitch - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warning : I was drunk when I wrote this, just coming back from a friend place…I drunk two beers, and that’s enough for me to get drunk, how weak am I right ? It’s because I never drink…Anyway, that’s why this fic is shittier than usually blahblahblah it’s all fun and game until blahblahblah I thought about not writing this and posting it, but then I promised two stories for tonight so still did it and I’m an idiot yes thank you very much. Look how great Bruce looks down there. Damn hottie. DAAAAAAMN HOTTIE. 

Decided to group two requests, because the two together inspired me. So here for a shy reader, newly a Justice League member, intimidated by the Bat. As usual, feedbacks are very welcome, hope you’ll like it :

PART TWO

(My masterlist blog here : https://ella-ravenwood-archives.tumblr.com)

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Destiny. 

You strongly believed in Destiny. 

No matter what people could say, how many arguments against it they had, and how much they were sceptic about it…it wouldn’t change your mind. You strongly believed in Destiny.

Because it was impossible only coincidences brought you were you were now…in the Justice League’s headquarters ! 

It wasn’t a coincidence that your path crossed Billy Batson’s, aka Shazam, one of the most powerful superhero in the World (though he was barely ten years old), and that you ended up adopting him.

It wasn’t a coincidence that you so happen to be a meta-human too, being able to manipulate the four elements. 

It wasn’t a coincidence that your son got noticed by the Justice League, nor was it a coincidence either that soon, the leaguers discovered he was only a ten year old boy in the body of a grown ass man (when he used his powers) and therefor, discovered that he had a mom…you. Who almost grilled Superman because you thought he wanted to hurt your boy. 

You believe strongly in Destiny, because hell, if all those chain of events were just coincidental, then wow…It just didn’t make sense. It was just too good to be true you know ? From your first meeting with four years old Billy to now, sitting in the League’s headquarter, in fucking Space ! 

The first one you met was Batman, and damn that guy was intimidating…But when he spoke to you, and when he congratulated you to have raised such a good boy as Billy, something weird happened in your heart. 

At first, you pegged it for a stupid teenage like crush. Like the slight infatuation you’d have on the most popular boy in school, or on a teacher, knowing damn well you’d never have a chance with them. But then…Then it was more than that. The more you saw and talked to him, the more you had…feelings stirring in your belly and such. 

Destiny. You strongly believed in it. 

So, when you started to fall for the Bat, you decided it was also Destiny…Only, sometimes fate could be a bitch, and would destin you to be a sad miserable human being. Because there was absolutely NO chance that you’d ever get with a guy like Batman, he was way out of your league. 

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The foods we choose to put on our plates — or toss away – could have more of an ecological impact than many of us realize.

On Earth Day, here are some ways to consider how our diet impacts the planet.

You’ve heard the numbers on food waste. More than 30 percent of available food is tossed each year in America. It’s enough to fill Chicago’s 1,450-foot-tall Willis Tower (formerly known as the Sears Tower) 44 times over.

The U.S. has set an official goal to reduce food waste by 50 percent by the year 2030. Universities have begun to chip away at the food waste issue by promoting ugly fruit and vegetables and shifting away from pre-cooked, buffet style food, instead serving more cook-to-order options that can cut down on waste. Food service companies are working with farmers and chefs to get more blemished but edible produce into cafeterias across the country. Even religious groups are getting into the act, raising attention to the problem of food waste among the faithful and connecting with restaurants, retailers and food banks to help redirect food to hungry mouths that might otherwise end up in landfills.

Chew On This For Earth Day: How Our Diets Impact The Planet

Illustration: MHJ/Getty Images

sheloveskook  asked:

i don't know if you're already writing this out but the one universe where human was born as colorblind unless they met their soulmate and the colors will starting to bleed into their life // jikook is soulmate // thank you ^-^

Hey lovely! This took me actually forever to finally do so I apologize 😖. This soulmate au was really interesting to write since I haven’t something like this before, I hope you enjoy~

+ Jimin is a waiter at a restaurant and that night at work, he ended up waiting on Seokjin, an old friend, and a couple other people with him

+ “My God, Park Jimin! I haven’t seen you since high school!” Seokjin had beamed. Seokjin introduces Jimin to his friends, catching up on the years they haven’t seen each other

+ In the end, Seokjin invites Jimin to hang out with all of them sometimes and Jimin accepts. He’s easily integrated in their friend group

+ Jimin enjoys all of Seokjin’s friends, especially one named Jungkook. He finds out Namjoon is Seokjin’s soulmate and he can see in full color. Meanwhile, Jimin’s world is still black and white.

+ Jimin often comes over to one of their houses to play video games with them.

+ One day while he was there, during a break, Jimin asks Jin about what colors look like. “I don’t think I can explain it to you, but I can tell you what color objects are?” And so he begins to point out objects in the room and trying to explain what color they are.

+ “And that—that is blue,” Jin points to the controller in Jimin’s hand. “Blue huh..”

+ Jimin finds himself getting especially close to Jungkook. Despite the fact that he is younger, Jungkook enjoys messing around with Jimin. Jimin is too endeared to tell him to stop.

+ Jungkook and Jimin hang out together often, even without the group. Jungkook likes to tag along with Jimin when he goes places. “Hyung, can I come grocery shopping with you?” “Why do you want to come grocery shopping…?” Jungkook always shrugs with a smile.

+ It happened a couple days later. Jimin was back at Jin’s house playing games with all of them when he noticed something peculiar. His controller—it wasn’t black nor white. It was this blue that Jin had described. A speck of blue in his sea of black and white.

+ “So this is what blue looks like…” Jimin had said quietly. Jin immediately paused the game. “Holy shit, you’ve met your soulmate?” Everyone in the room is shocked.

+ Hoseok begins to question him instantly, asking him all of the people he met recently. “Hyung, I’m a waiter, I meet new people every single day—it could be anyone!” But at the same time, Jimin was excited he finally had come across his soulmate.

+ But he couldn’t help but notice how defeated Jungkook looked in the corner.

+ From that day on, colors began to bleed more and more into his life. The sky was colored, the trees had pigment—it was more beautiful than ever. But he still had no idea who his soulmate was.

+ It’s weeks later and Jimin’s color vision is still spotty. He also noticed Jungkook had been distancing himself, so he corners him one day and takes him out to the park.

+ “Hyung…I think I see color too.” Jimin froze on the bench seat they were sharing. A deep realization erupts in him. The more he hung out with Jungkook, the more he saw color.

+ “Jungkook…I’m going to try something so please just—stay still okay?” Jungkook nods with wide eyes as Jimin cups his face and leans in close.

+ Before Jungkook knew it, Jimin’s lips were on his. And when they opened their eyes, color bloomed in every black and white crevice that remained in their vision.

+ Jimin laughs in astonishment. “Jungkookie, I think you may be my soulmate.”

+ Jungkook smiles. “Yeah, maybe.”

[Fire Meets Gasoline]

Professor!Negan x Reader

Prompt: Fire 

A/N: So, this is my submission for the beautiful @backseat-negan writing challenge! Thanks so much for giving me the chance to join! xx Here’s some dark Negan for you guys to enjoy ** Negan refuses to allow you to end your relationship. 

Tags: smut, angst, rough/non-con (kind of? I don’t know if this counts, but Negan’s pretty dominant/possessive in this piece. If you are sensitive please pass on reading >.< I don’t want to upset or trigger anyone)  

|| Masterlist ||

•••

“…she throws herself under a train because she’s a shamed woman. You can’t compare Anna to Hester Prynne because she doesn’t have her integrity. She decided to cheat on her husband, and ruin herself. I mean what else is a selfish, spoiled woman supposed to do other than commit suicide?” 

“How can you say that?” you interrupted, shifting your position to look at Spencer, his words curling your skin as you clutched harder onto the precious book between your fingers. 

“Anna was a broken woman by the end of the story. She may have had her faults, but her biggest fault was falling in love with a man who she was willing to give up everything for including her dignity and reputation. Her death is a tragedy, but Tolstoy wrote it so beautifully that it empowers her in the end because she decided to free herself” 

“Anna was weak, and naive…” 

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